


A Cabin In The Woods

by Prisioux



Series: The Five Wizards and their Meddling [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Interspecies Romance, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Romantic Fluff, Rough Sex, Secret Marriage, Sex, Smut, Thranduil has a secret crush, Witches, the blue wizards - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-03-06 01:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prisioux/pseuds/Prisioux
Summary: A witch saves Thranduil´s life and awakes something inside of him.





	1. Faye

**Author's Note:**

> At first, I thought about my lead being Rohirrim, from a family of merchants around the Misty Mountains. I went to research some names and found that yes...people from Rhovanion actually populated that area...from there, they also migrated south. 
> 
> http://lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Rohan
> 
> Her background then is Éothéod. the horselords...basically, the story starts TA 2496...  
> And yes, I added some world building details, my headcanons about how nobility would behave, spells etc...

Life was simple.

Wife. Mother. Lady. She was told it was a huge honour, but she longed for much more. _What would I do if I was to be free, if I was not a noble? Would I be happy ?Would I decide my destiny? How it would be to fall in love and marry the man I chose?_

Faye would never know; she was about to be sent away, to marry her intended.

She sighted; right now, the warm and stick paste being applied at her nether regions was the source of her problems. _Disgusting_.

“Stop fussing and learn from it, Faye. Intimate grooming is very important for a Lady like you.Your job is to bear your Lord Husband strong and healthy children...this step will ease the pain from both laying with him and providing him with heirs.

When time comes, your baby might be too big...in this case, the midwife has to cut you, and then stich you again. Removing your intimate hair this way will make things easier. Every month you should make use of this mix. You are as beautiful as an elf maiden , Faye, and they are also hairless down there for what I heard. Remember, you are not a simple woman, you are not a peasant!”

_No, we are not peasants; we are petty lords, but you would not say that; and we are also not elves, we just live near them._

The legend said that younger sons of noble Houses from Rhovanion had established themselves in the northern banks of the Anduin, south of the Hoarwell, and founded villages and cities in the area. They were called Éthéod, horse people, and claimed descent from Vidugavia, a powerful prince of Rhovanion. While many had returned to their Motherland, while some went south and founded the Kingdom of Rohan, there were  those who stayed behin, between the Misty Mountains and the Greenwood.

From those people, all scattered across the northern vale, three settlements prospered enough to  become somewhat important trading centers. Their Lords, being far from Gondor- perhaps not by fate, but by design, Faye thought to herself- started to marry into each other families, setting them further apart from the smallfolk.

The mightiest of such Lords received the title of Lord of the Éthéod and Faye´s family had been honoured when the next in line for this lordship, Léod, asked for her hand.

Faye had emerged from the warm bath with only the hair covering her mound and her mother, Lady Earwyn  assisted her in spreading sweet almond oil all over her skin. She was sixteen and her body had been of a woman for many years now. Her family was looked down upon; Faye suspected they had only raised to lordship a few centuries back, when most of the folk returned went east or south and the seat became vacant.

Regardless, Faye´s family was among the noble Houses of the region and, as such, the future Lord of the Horse People was to make visits to every and each of his vassals,  and chose  the next Lady of Éthéod among their maidens.

When it was announced that their time would come to receive their Lord, nobody dared comment that it would be a short visit; it was obvious that the future Lord saw their House as no option, but could not possibly overlook them altogether.

In the end, it did not matter: he asked for Faye´s hand right on the spot.

This pleased her Mother immensely, as if he was paying _her_ a personal compliment.

The unexpected engagement, however, soured Faye's´s relationship with her little sister.

Enyn was three years younger but carried herself like the Lady she aspired to be. She was still bare chested, the opposite of her older sister in both appearance and temperament, but still a very pretty girl. If anybody would have cared to ask for Faye´s opinion, Enyn was better suited for the role of Lady of the Éthéod than herself.

Their father had died a couple of years before the betrothal; his heart was born weak, the healers said. Faye, her Mother and siblings moved to the main Tower and were taken into her grandfather´s protection. He was a stern, but loving man, who quickly went about negotiating a betrothal agreement for Eanor, who was now the heir, in the aftermath of Faye´s own engagement and their newfound prestige among the Éthéod.

While she cared little about being a Lady, there were some things in the role that appealed to Faye. Where they lived, noble Ladies were expected to be able to defend themselves and trained in arms, much in the art of their ancestors. Faye´s family was famous in the area for breading the finest horses and she was very skilled at riding, something also of great importance for the horse people.

But the social aspects of the ladyship did not come naturally for Faye. She was able to make small talk yes, but would get a splitting headache after hours of  faking smiles. She liked to cook, but a Lady would never do _such a peasant´s job._

Her sister was much more graceful than she was, and excelled at all womanly arts; while Faye settled for being able to perform adequately, Enyn was not satisfied until she mastered all songs in her harp, managed to embroider all her linen with her initials and sang as beautifully as a bird.

The only thing that Faye was really happy about her upcoming marriage was the prospect of having children. She loved babies and had cared dearly for Enyn. They had been best of friends for most of her childhood, Enyn content in being the doll of Faye, but now, ever since the announcement, Enyn became distant, resentful even.  

Although Faye had not wronged her sister, she tried to make amends. She complimented Enyn on her new dress one day, attempting to make a conversation that would eventually lead them to patch thing up.

But Enyn, who had sewed the dress herself, just shrugged and complained: “ What is the use of my being so accomplished?Lord Léod took one look at you and insisted to take you as his bride…”

Faye made no reply. It was unfair in her eyes. Lord Léod was a handsome man, but they had spoken for less than half an hour before he went to ask for her hand. They said it was love at first sight, but was it really?

She was angry at Enyn. They were sisters, how could she behave like this, on the account of a man they barely met?

From that day on, Faye returned the cold treatment and spoke only the necessary with Enyn. It hurt, but Faye could be stubborn and prideful.

When the day finally arrived, Faye struggled with her feelings. Her Mother, however, tried to give her strength in the only way she knew :“You look very beautiful, my daughter, your Lord Husband will be pleased.”

Faye´s mother had tears in her eyes. _It must not be easy for her, to see me go earlier than expected ._ “I still do not believe you are a woman now, Faye! I remember you, as a baby... blond just like your father and then…”

 _Yes, my blond curls fell and I was bald for a whole year, before a mane of dark, wavy hair started to grow...much to everyone's dismay !_ She had heard the same tale so many times...in a family of blonds, Faye was named as thus because her parents believed she would grow even fairer, just to end up with a dark haired, black eyed girl.

Faye would be escorted to her new residence, a fortified small city northwest where her home was, the last human settlement before the Forest Gate of Mirkwood.

Her grandfather had doubled the guards who would escort them because there were reports of Orcs and goblins in the area lately.

Lady Earwyn, Enyn and Eonor went to the gates to bid Faye goodbye; they would be staying behind to protect their city. It was small, they always said, but it was theirs. Of their dutiful naturel and fierce ways, Faye was proud: they would die defending those walls, if it ever came to be.

The servants had already loaded the carriage with her trousseau: fine clothes, china, jewelry...everything that a Lady of her importance would need, her mother said. They crossed the gates and Faye could not help but to cry; her grandfather, in a rare gesture of warmth, hugged her: “ He is a fine man, Faye; you will be happy there. You made us very proud.”

Faye fell asleep; the roads were well kept and their pace, steady. _I will be happy...I will be brave, I will not cry_.

The morning Sun, so calm and gentle, and the soft breeze from the Mountains deceived her; Faye had barely recognized they were being attacked.

The orcs came out of nowhere.

Faye´s grandfather must have known they were outnumbered; he jumped from the carriage, sword in hand, and told the girl to go to the Forest Gate and find refuge in Mirkwood: “ GO, NOW!”

 

***

_Is my heart as weak as my father´s?_

She crossed the gates before nightfall.

 

_Where are the elvish guards?_

She continued to go through the old forest road...she felt like fainting.

 

_Was I hit by an Orc arrow?_

She stopped; the horses needed to rest...her legs were shaking.

 

_Why am I falling down?_

She was suffocating...her body did not respond to her commands.

 

_Dying...I am dying…_

 

Near a river, Faye fell; her eyes ,closed.

 

By the time Faye finally opened her eyes again, they were blue.

 

The deepest, purest blue there was or there would ever be.

 

***

 

The dark hair now fell down her waist.

She wore robes of blue silk, that matched her blue eyes. All her clothes were of the same colour. Blue.

By her own estimation, three years had passed.

She had made a large part of Mirkwood hers; she had given her blood and magic to those trees, writing runes to protect the area from the darkness coming from Dol Guldur.

The marchwardens kept her presence a secret from their Lord, the Elvenking; she was their friend, and they feared his reaction, they feared he would turn her away from the forest.

The Lady was a protector; her magic was her own and she was creating a belt around the forest, keeping many of the foul creatures out of the Woodland Realm proper at the expense of her power.

The wardens gave her one of their cabins; she created more magical barriers around her private home. She was sure this was not their initial intention, but they said nothing and allowed her privacy.

The exact location of the cabin they had given her was now a mystery. They would meet in the woods, when the Lady was also patrolling. The elves would give her food, wine, books...they would sing and make merry, before it was time to return. The elves, to Thranduil's halls; The Lady, to her cabin.

The Lady now had a white owl and a wolf for companions.

The animals, the waters and the trees were her life.

 

***

That day, the Lady was seeking to expand her dominions. It was a very dangerous thing to do:  going beyond the safe area, in the deep, dark woods, speaking to the trees to determine which ones had been too affected and which ones could still be saved.

The trees worth recovering would receive the Lady´s markings, the blood runes and spells and the evil ones would be warned against doing further harm to the inhabitants of the forest.

Lord, her wolf, sensed something...the Lady only saw her companion going even deeper in the woods.

This could only means trouble ahead.

“Nyie, lead me!” the Lady bid the owl and the bird flew, stopping at tree branches to wait for the Lady to reach her; once she did, Nyie would resume flying, in the same direction the wolf went.

The Lady discovered, much to her annoyance, that she was not the only one that had ventured off the limits of the safe woods that day.

Elves were fighting spiders.

_What made them come this far?_

When the evil beasts saw her, they became even more aggressive, but the Lady cursed them in all the known and unknown languages of the world at the same time; the sound was so vile and intense, that the spiders turned to ashes at that moment.

“Could you help him, Lady?” a silvan elf known to her begged. “Our Lord insisted us to show him this part of the woods. Some were whispering about your existence. Everything was fine until we started to follow a trail. The spiders were concentrating their attacks on our King; this was a trap. “

Their King was the most handsome living being the Lady had ever seen. His hair was silver blond; his features, fair, but masculine. Very masculine, despite the absence of facial hair.

Gazing upon him, in awe, she became Faye again. She had never forgotten who she was; the memories remain, but they simply did not hold any emotional attachment, like they were stories, dreams. Just occasionally the woman she once was would emerge. Like when she found Lord, alone and hungry, after his mother wolf had died from a spider bite; the Faye that always wanted to have babies, came back and nursed the pup back to health. Now, seeing Thranduil for the first time, Faye's heart raced and her cheeks turned red.

The Elvenking needed the Lady of the woods and Faye drifted into the shadows of her mind: “His spirit is strong, my friend; but I need to take him to my cabin, to save his body from the venom. In two days time, you are to be reunited with your King, I so vow..” she announced.

She had saved many lives this same way... they did not like it, but made no protest.

 

***

Thranduil woke up in a cabin; he assumed it was the last one, at the outskirts of the Greenwood, the same his marchwardens were incapable of finding, much to his consternation.

“We must find this cabin; we will not return until I fully inspect the borders of the Woodland Realm.”

Thranduil´s dominions being so vast and him lacking a ring of power to defend his Realm, meant that the Silvan Elves had to protect the Greenwood with their own blood. Theirs was a heavily militarized society and the forest was kept under strict vigilance. The civilian population that lived in the heart of the woods would both assist and ask for the assistance of the guards patrolling the area.

As they covered vast distances, there were three types of cabins scattered over the forest for them to rest, have their meals, or receive first aid in case of emergencies. The most common of such cabins were simple wooden shelters, shacks really, meant for the soldiers seeking refuge from the elements or for healing purposes. Those shelters would be around a day´s travels from the second type of outpost, the log cabins of the woods. Those would work as meeting points, even for the local populations, and  wardens would be stationed in such cabins, in monthly rotation.

The last type of cabin was built with stone, either exactly on the limits of the safe forest or atop elevations. Those were fully equipped, even with a built in fireplace, and marchwardens would spend full seasons living and working in the surrounding areas.

Somehow, the marchwardens that were supposedly stationed in the last of the stone cabins were living on the nearest log cabins; they had even moved their bunk beds and made improvements in the house, as if they had been told not to return to their posts.

Nobody had reported any problems at the borders...and the answers the Elvenking demanded were vague and apologetical.

They were walking in circles for hours. “ A cabin does not simply disappear; you either tell me what happened, find me this cabin or you will find yourselves without a job…”

Then, the spiders came and caught the small party unprepared. Thranduil was aware of their reapperace in his woods, but they had been nothing more than a nuisance. The attack, however, showed they had multiplied their numbers tenfold.

They fought well, but Thranduil was bitten and the venon, much strong. He would be able to heal himself, but his body shut down for protection; this must have scared his guards, who were more on the younger side, and most probably had little experience in healing.

Yes, he was brought to the stone cabin; his wardens were not as useless as he thought...

The Elvenking smiled; his screams had done the trick and his soldiers saved his life in the end. Thranduil´s whole body tensed as he tried to move. His left arm was immobilized. He laid in a folding bed, with bandages going from his left shoulder to his right chest.

Unable to move, Thranduil took to look at his surroundings.

 _This is not our cabin_.

The place was immaculate; every corner of the tiny space displayed the touch of a single person. The simple table was covered with a beautiful cloth, handmade; a couple of wooden carved trunks, probably made by dwarves, were turned into sitting bench in the absence of a couch or divan, their tops were covered with a . Whoever lived here- yes, this cabin was home to someone- had made turned the place into a comfortable hide out.

_No, this cabin is no simple outpost for passing wardens...someone lives here._

_A female lives here._

There were feminine touches everywhere; the cabin was small, but fully equipped. There was even a rug before the fireplace that doubled as stove. And a pet. Yes, it was a wolf , but clearly domesticated, happily sleeping by the fire.

A noise. Thranduil looked to the door and saw a young woman, dressed in blue robes; on her shoulder, a white owl.

She walked towards him; Thranduil's armour  and sword were resting on the ground, near his bed.

_A daughter of men, albeit fair...very beautiful... another sort of beauty...she has power...her light glows even stronger than mine.Who is she?_

The woman took one of the chairs, sat by his side and went to directly answer Thranduil's last mental question, as if she had heard it.

“I had a name once... when I was a suckling babe at my mother´s breasts, she called me Faye. I am still what I once was, but _more_ . I guard the woods, my Lord, _your woods_ , with blood and magic. You should be fully recovered in the morrow. I am a friend; I mean you no harm.”

Thranduil studied her face, as he was sure she was studying his. High cheekbones, full lips, eyes of the deepest blue, like the sea, the same sea that would call most of the Eldar one day.

And her eyes were calling _him_.

“Lady Faye, I thank you for your hospitality and for saving my life; none of my guards would have healed me as fast and as painless as you did. However, I do have questions...this cabin, for example…”

Thranduil half sat in the bed; Faye handed him a bowl of broth, urging him to regain his strength.

She smiled sadly: “I saved many of your marchwardens, my Lord; I beg you not to think ill of them; they said nothing about my presence because they feared you would not understand and...well, I must admit that I claimed this cabin as my own. I am a woman after all, and the idea of having my own house spoke louder than my shame at stealing. “

Faye helped herself with some of the soup while she spoke: “ I trespassed into your lands and for this, I am sorry. But...you see, when I came here, this lands were not _yours_ anymore. The Shadow was taking over this part of the Greenwood. I treated the trees, cleaned the waters and rescued the animals; I gave them my blood and extended the protection of my enchanted runes through the forest. I block the shadow to the best of my abilities, but some foul creatures do escape from time to time”

Thranduil finished the broth and Faye collected it, and gestured him to lay down once again, as she needed to tend his wounds.

She then went to boil some wine and mix herbs ;afterwards, Faye retrieved pieces of cloth from one of her trunks, a knife from a small cupboard,  sticking the blade in the fire.

Faye cut through the bandages with the warm knife; the wound was healing, but venom was still coming out, which meant that some remained in Thranduil's body.

Faye lost no time; her lips covered the wound and she proceed to suck from Thranduil´s shoulder, spitting the black puss in a bowl. Her heart shaped lips were red, meaty and warm; the way she placed her hand on his  chest for anchorage while sucking the spider's venom  was most too _sensual_ for being only a practical gesture.

Her hand lingered, caressed him as a lover would and, much to his surprise, Thranduil was aroused.

_Impossible. Elves love only once; I was married once...sexual desire, we only experience with the one we are joined; we then turn to higher pursuits...we are above such lewd desires._

Faye cleaned her mouth from the filth with the boiled wine; then she washed his wound with the same red liquid, and  bandaged Thranduil again.

“You are not comfortable with me, my Lord. “ Faye apologised; Thranduil brushed it off.  She then asked if he was tired.

The Elvenking was known to be almost impossible to read, even by elves; he was ashamed that Faye had been able to see through him with such ease.

“I know I can trust you, Lady Faye. You proved to be an elven friend and on my word, you have my leave to stay in this cabin for as long as you draw breath, as much as to come to my Halls and stay as an honoured guest. If I look weary, is because I am not used to be in such position of vulnerability...and, no, I am not that tired. You may call me by my name, Thranduil now that we are in private.”

Faye gave the Elvenking the purest of smiles; she suddenly looked very young and innocent, no hint of the hidden lust, the seduction of her touch...no, she was just a girl at that moment and Thranduil ´s heart sank. _She is a child._

“I was looking forward for some companionship, _Thranduil._ A very beautiful name if I may say.”

 _She is but a child…no older than twenty._ Thranduil was curious about Faye; she was, as she said herself, much _more._ But what was she?

“Tell me about your life, about before you became a sorceress, Faye.”

Faye turned serious, but not sad; her voice retained the same musical  quality as she shared with Thranduil her memories:

“Oh...I know my name and that I lived somewhere near. A family; a man who loved me...I know all this, but if you ask me their names, or if they were blond, red haired or bald , I know not.

Maybe if I see their faces,I would remember, although... I have a suspicion it would not _matter_ , for I cannot be what I once was.

I was seeking protection when I entered your woods, but my heart failed me. Whether I died or was on the brink of death...I can scarcely remember. It must have been three, four years ago...I cannot leave the woods, the trees, the animals, otherwise the runes will not work...they are bound to me. I am theirs as they are mine.“

Faye´s love and commitment to the Greenwood deeply touched Thranduil´s heart; he thanked her once again, for all she had done; her magic was almost palpable to him and her responsibility, too big for such a young woman.

_Her hands are soft and her skin, fair and almost without flaws. She must be of noble birth; she had not worked for her living in her previous life. My wardens must be giving her food and the wolf probably hunts for her…_

“How old are you, little one?” Thranduil asked without much thinking.

Faye shook her head and made a face, squinting both her eyes and nose: “ I could not tell, Thranduil...my memories are so distant and yet, I know my body is new. I channel powers that were not mine before and yet, I still know I am myself... at least to a certain extent.”

She took a deep breath and looked down for a moment, before raising her face once again: “Thranduil...I must tell you, there is no need to keep the mirror spell with me; unless, of course, you prefer this way.”

The Elvenking would have taken issue with anyone addressing his burns; sometimes, he would use the terrifying vision to intimidate foes, but Faye was a friend; she clearly did not mean to upset him and he was far from angry.

Nonetheless, he would rather not talk about the burns, nor show them to her: “ The spell takes not much from me anymore, mellon nin.” he said, and she did not press the subject.

They spent the rest of the evening in peace; they talked, laughed and played “ Nine Men's Morris”. Faye explained Thranduil the rules of the board game and feigned being mad when he quickly mastered it and defeated her at least twice.

 

***

Faye woke up early and went to the nearby stream to have her bath. It was cold, almost winter; there was a small bathtub at the cabin and a water pump she could use, however Faye preferred this way; the freezing water would wake her up in a matter of seconds, while a warm bath would make her want to sleep again, and she had much work to do...

Lord stayed nearby, in vigil of his Mistress, but unwilling to join in.

Thranduil followed the trail left by the wolf and, for a brief second, he saw Faye´s nude form through the trees; the wide hips, round buttocks, muscled legs and, most shocking, the generous, glorious breasts, supple nipples of flesh as rosy red as her lips.

He was fascinated; hers was a different kind of body, unlike the slender gracefulness of any ellith.

_A body originally made for bearing children, for the pleasures of the flesh, changed by the hours of constant work around the nature... the muscles, the marvel of her toned arms and soft hands, her tools for healing the trees...she is a fair maiden of the woods._

She was fast; the water was obviously very cold. There was a wooden bench she had placed her things; she used a towel to dry her skin, then smeared herself with oil and started to dress.

Thranduil returned to the cabin at once, leaving Faye in the privacy of the forest to finish with her morning rituals.

When she returned, he was already dressed in his armour.

“Faye, I must leave. My guards are nearby to escort me back to my Halls. You are invited to join me there, now or anytime. I am in your debt; make a wish, tell me something you have great need of and it shall be yours.”

“My King, you know very well what my heart desires; you knew from the moment you regained consciousness and my hand touched your skin, how my body aches for you.”

Faye got on the tip of her toes, pressing her lips to Thranduil´s. There was no fight; he opened his mouth willingly. It is her first kiss, but her passion guided her well.

Her attack had the intensity of a thunder; his body was invaded by this strange electricity.

Thranduil had lived for over six thousand years and never had he felt his whole being was about to be possessed by pure lust.

She both started and ended  their kiss.

” what one has to give freely, Thranduil, I dare not ask as a reward. The girl in me still finds enjoyment in small celebrations... I was born once,  in the last week of October. Would you come for me and spend this week here, in the woods, every year until I am no more? Only you could pass through the mists; Nyie would guide you to me, my King.”

Thranduil accepted the invitation :“You have my word, Faye. I look forward to our next meeting.”

 

***

 


	2. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil finds out about Faye´s past, but does it change his feelings for her?

She was everywhere.

Her smell lingered in his clothes; her image was printed in his mind and her voice, in his ears.

And oh, there were the letters; so many in this first year, Thranduil lost count.

The Elvenking took to send the Lady of the Woods many gifts through his guards, tokens of his gratitude: pieces of clothing matching the blue of her eyes; scented oils and soaps; salt and spices, quill and parchment, anything to make her solitary existence less so, to bring her comfort in that small cabin of hers.

Every second week, her owl would arrive at his Halls with a different note.  While her handwriting was not that elegant- Thranduil would describe it as practical and efficient- the content of her messages showed that Faye had been raised indeed to be a Lady.

The first letter, for instance, was a charming thank you note, perfect in its simplicity, straightforward in its message, but also sweetly inviting in nature, leaving the door open for more to come, if the Elvenking would take the bait.

He did.

Thranduil promptly replied; Nye had been clearly instructed not to return without a missive as answer, the poor owl waiting at the willow tree outside his Halls to finally go home.

With some degree of hesitation, the Elvenking decided to write her back in a more effusive way; he was known to be almost as cold as Ice upon first meeting, hiding his emotions on that Throne of his, but a letter, Thranduil decided, was the perfect medium for a more intimate conversation to be established. No space for self doubt, awkward gestures and confusion...only words and the feelings behind them.

Faye revealed herself to be a charming pen pal, almost witty in her sometimes innocents observations and always very open and honest about her intentions.

From there on, the correspondence between the Thranduil and Faye flowed.

She wrote of the forest, of how her days were filled with speaking to trees and whispering into animal's ears, her many successes in improving the cabin, the happiness she took in finally starting a garden- her wolf, until then, had constantly spoilt her efforts, digging the lowed ground or eating the flowers and vegetables- and also sharing some funny stories about her failures at baking, not surprising when  all one had was primitive oven difficult of operating.

For Thranduil, it was very complicated at first, writing about his days without any mention of his Kingly duties, because while he trusted Faye not to be a spy, the political secrets of the Woodland Realm were not his to share. But after sending the second letter, Thranduil found it was surprisingly liberating to speak to someone outside his Court, of things that were neither personally painful or strictly business related.

So, he wrote Faye about his training and hunts, shared some memories of his childhood and spoke many times about his favorite spots in the Greenwood, as Faye only knew the borders of the forest.

The letters became the high point of his week, constantly reminders of her presence in his life and in his woods.

Thranduil knew what this meant. Nobody would live for over six thousand years without learning a thing or two about himself and others.

They were creating a bond. The Lady of the woods desired him and he, her.

_If I am creating a bond, this means that the previous one was broken._

_It means that my former wife prefers to dwell in the Halls of Mandos; that she will not be re- embodied, nor join me in Valinor, have I ever wish to sail._

But what was Faye? Was she a simple woman learned in witchcraft? No, she had been a woman once, but never a witch. Her powers were real and greater of thoses of an Elf...

Thranduil had his own suspicions about her; if not about the nature of her powers, but of her past. He had given orders for some of his guards to investigate what went on outside the Gates of the Greenwood by the time she appeared in his woods.

As he had anticipated, while the findings left no doubt who Faye was, they did not explain her powers, previously unmanifested magic.

October was coming to an end. Soon, they would be together in that cabin, the two of them. His heart longed for her and yet, he was not only a ellon, but a King.

Thranduil had no doubts _who_ Faye was, but what she was remained a mystery.

 

***

Faye doubted she had ever felt like this before. Her memories of her previous life were far in between, but she was certain that, had she loved once, she would remember.

If not, had it ever been love in the first place?

Thranduil was always with her, somehow. She would read his letters many times; they were now deeply personal, treasures of a strange, new  but very close relationship.  

Faye continued to tend for the trees and protect the woods with her spells and strength while thinking and longing for the Elvenking.

And the dreams... _oh, the dreams_. Two weeks after her blood was upon her, her temperature would rise, her intimate parts would swollen and the dreams would come, deep fantasies of embrances, kisses, soft touches, warm whispers and more...much more.

In the morning, Faye would clean herself with the cold water of the stream and bravely resist the urge of  return to her bed and revisit the images of flesh, sweat, pain and pleasure

There was much work to be done and, whatever powers Faye had, she owed them to the Greenwood.

But when the day finally came and she felt his presence ever closer, Faye was the picture of wantonness.

Faye knew too little about the rules of the Eldar and wondered what was she in the eyes of the elves. They seemed to consider her a friend, but would this friendship continued if she was to become lover of their King? Some hints of memory from her previous life gave her a sense that males often followed their desires regardless of consequences. She had, however, been a daughter of Men and, if the ellyth she had met patrolling the forest were any indication, Faye was very far from their standard of beauty.

Nyie came from the woods, flying low , surely guiding her mistress´guest. As she landed on Faye´s shoulders, Thranduil himself appeared, his guards carrying a huge chest that was left at the borders of her dominions, for they could not pass the enchanted mists of the spell she had cast as protection.

“Is it heavy, Your Grace...should I help you?” Faye said without any intention of actually helping Thranduil with anything; he was doing a great job by himself, his muscles under the tunic flexed while he seemingly without much effort lifted and carried the chest  for the last meters to Faye´s cabin.

“They are gifts for you, Faye. “ Thranduil announced as he placed the chest inside the cabin, before the small fireplace.

She gave him a smile filled with mischief. “ Good! I was afraid you were just carrying your clothes for the week you are to be my guest; I heard you are quite vain…”

“Whoever told you I am vain was lying to you, Faye.” Thranduil said as he opened the chest, filled with so many things, some prosaic enough as pots, linen and spices to more luxurious items such as bottles of the best dorwinion vintage, beautiful gowns and even a sapphire necklace, “ to match your eyes” he said.

But what caught Faye´s attention was a collection of five small books; they were beautiful pieces of craftsmanship that Thranduil had obviously commissioned for her, her name written in gold letters on the blue hard cover. “The stories of my people.”

“Thank you, my King; you are very generous and filled my heart with happiness.” Suddenly, the gifts she had prepared for him seems poor offerings. “ I baked us a cake of wild red berries with the flour you sent me last month.”

Thranduil looked at the simple round cake that sat in the middle of her small table; she had arranged plates and cups for tea to be served. A pile of cloth placed in front of a plate was seemingly out of place “ What is that? “ he inquired.

“ _That_ ” Faye said almost angrily “ is the gift I made for you.”

_Oh._

Thranduil smiled and moved to sit on that chair under Faye´s cold eyes; he adjusted his expression to look genuinely excited while examining his gifts: “ Very beautiful handwork…”

“You have no idea what it is... Confess it!” Faye had found two long wooden needles, thread and yarn; she had some memory of not being particularly _good_ at knitting. _But this was before...now that I changed and have many powers, perhaps I am more skilled in such things._

She was clearly not.

With a  shrug, Faye went to explain better her intentions: “I made you gloves, a scarf and socks...I dare say you would not see the difference between the gloves and the socks…”

“Err...mmm…” Thranduil cleared his throat. “ The gifts are most welcomed and yes, I will treasure it…” _the best course of action is changing the topic...hungry...yes...I am hungry._ “ The cake looks absolutely delicious, Faye...and I am starving.”

She gave him a side glance, not convinced at all; but the cake...she knew it was good. Faye sliced a huge piece for Thranduil since he claimed to be very hungry, and a smaller for herself. Upon first bite, she smiled. _Yes, just like I remember...from before...sweet and moist._

Faye´s memories were not images, but recollections, sensations, thoughts she must have had before that would suddenly emerge in her mind. She instinctively knew how to cook a good rabbit stew or that her horses needed grooming...but names, faces, places, no, Faye could not remember.

The voice of her guest brought Faye to this new reality: “I would like another piece, please.”

“I am glad you liked it...somehow, I know I was good with cooking.” she said  as she poured herself more tea. “ Maybe I should stop thinking about the memories...those pieces of my former life that refuse to die. I know my name and that is possibly all I will ever know…”

“Faye “ Thranduil said, his hand suddenly covering hers in a soothing gesture.” Some of my guards went beyond our borders, upon my command, to investigate your appearance in the Greenwood. My intention is solely to offer you an answer to your questions; I didn't mean to pry on your private life... _your former life_ , but yes...we know who you were...your family, your people…”

Faye listened this story- _her story_ \- in silence. She was a minor noble from the Horse People - Éothéod- northerners of great strength and value, originally from Rhovanion. They had settled those lands for some centuries and would sometimes trade with the elves.

“You were being  escorted to another human settlement, nearer my lands, when Orcs attacked.”

She was the sole survivor.

Thranduil had been very vague; he had mentioned that Faye´s grandfather was killed in the attack and she wondered if he was hiding more disturbing details to spare her: “Who was escorting me?My family? Are they all dead?”

“No...only your grandfather, the Head of the House.” She breathed in relief; even though she did not remember them, Faye was happy they were alive and well.

Before she would process the information, Thranduil quietly asked: “Do you wish to be returned to them, Faye?”

Confused, Faye turned her eyes to Thranduil… what did he mean? was he politely asking her to leave the Greenwood?

She must´not have worried, he assured her :“No; your place is here...with us…” _with me_ , he wanted to add, but this was for later. _I must tell her all I know, allow her to chose_.” Your mother, brother and sister still live but.. they believe you are dead and...you were also betrothed. You were to marry the Lord of the Éothéod, you were to be his Consort.”

Faye knew there was a man who had loved her once, but not that they were engaged. She was being given in marriage to their Lord...a huge honour, Thranduil said. 

Was she in love with him? If so, why she could not even remember his face? Love is a strong feeling...was her heart so treacherous as to forget such man? Or her own nature had changed with her death?

_This explains why I have all those beautiful things...I was to become a wife...a mother...not longer ago, I loved this man...so, how can I feel what I feel for Thranduil? Was my love not real?”_

This new set of information briefly overwhelmed Faye; her present life was not empty of meaning, but being denied knowledge of her past made her feel oftentimes empty, incomplete. The appearance of Thranduil in her life had changed this, once again; she clung to this new feeling- _love-_ and trusted it would anchor her somehow. The longing for him, her dreams and , when he was there, she melting _just_ by hearing his voice or seeing his handsome face...all sweet things, gifts the Forest bestowed upon her that warmed her heart and gave her hope of belonging to someone- him- one day.

Now, to learn that she might have felt the same thing before and had lost it somehow deep inside her locked memories made Faye worry.

Because there was so much she did not know. It was like her, despite the powers and the adult body, was just a child, innocent and ignorant of the subtleties of life.

“You must understand that the Eldain have different rules than the Eldar; nobles of your people they engage in arranged marriages.” Faye realized that Thranduil assumed she knew about the customs of the Elves, which she did not, but allowed him to continue instead of rectifying his assumptions: “ According to the traditions of the Horse People, its Lord has to choose a Maid of noble birth from one of the Families sworn to him; the Lord just happened to chose you. You did not have a say, I am afraid. He still searches for you, the Lord Léod...he still hopes you are alive. ”

The last part was distressing; Faye did not know the man, probably did not even love him, but wished him well.

Even when worrying about others that were dear to her once, Faye´s thoughts always turned to Thranduil...to their current and peculiar predicament.

_I never loved my intended...my heart was open, but unoccupied when I met Thranduil. Is his heart also free?_

So many questions, she had: The Elvenking had a son, she was told. Legolas, Prince Legolas. Where is the Prince's mother? Nobody had said anything  and she had not dared to ask. Or was the wife long dead and the subject, too distressing?

Or maybe elves were so different from humans that they had children without the benefit of the wedlock, Faye wondered…

Faye wanted Thranduil. She had been very clear upon their first meeting. But it was simply wrong, if he was married. She would not have him at the expense of his family.

Fearing his answer, she finally asked : “ I must confess I have no great knowledge of the rules of courtship and marriage… not from my people and definitely not from yours. I was left wondering...and assuming things. Would you care to explain? You do have a son...are you married? This...I...I _need_ to know.”

Thranduil leaned in; their eyes met for a second before he took the plunge and kissed her with wild abandon.

 _This is my answer. I am yours_.

Her lips were warm, meaty and incredibly accommodating- their tongues were dueling for mastery in a matter of seconds- but what drove him mad with desire was the sound of her breathing, the loudness of her heartbeat, the symphony of her moans.

_She is mine._

There was so much to talk and no need to. They were far beyond words at that point. Many barriers crossed, forgotten. They would be making the rules of their world, consequences be damned.

_She is not afraid._

As Faye laid there, naked and willing beneath him, Thranduil paused. _This is our wedding; in this bed, in this cabin, just the two of us. Will you take me?_ She nodded. _Yes, I am yours. I want you. Take me. We must become one._

Thranduil had concluded, in the months he had to think about her, that Faye was sent by the Valar; her powers and healing skills far exceeded  most of the Eldar; she was not merely a mortal, although her body was of a one  but her fea had expanded and she had a particular radiance to her. Faye, in his eyes, was possibly  a mixture of many things. Thranduil suspected Faye would live a long life, but had to consider there was also the possibility that she might be still; her body was not made to endure centuries and millennia, as his was. In all appearances, Faye was a mortal, and bonding to a daughter of  men was always a  risk.

He decided that she was worth it.

They told him the Lord of the Éthéod had asked to marry Faye upon first sight, overwhelmed by her beauty. _I cannot fault the man. She was beautiful...no... She is more_.

This _more_ was hard to define. Thranduil was used to the superior beauty of his race;  even those considered to be plain looking ones were leagues ahead their mortal counterparts. But Faye? She was unique. Her face was indeed fair, comely, but behind it, there was a very seductive quality in the way she moved, spoke...the corner of her mouths, the shape of her full breasts under her robes. Her scent, her openness and acceptance of her own desires and needs...even though she was innocent and inexperienced, Faye was naturally alluring and sensual, a woman in short.

Her hands softly exploring the lines and contours of his muscles as he positioned himself to enter her; the sight of her breasts, round, full and perfect and the tiny waist, the navel as a sole pink jewel in the plains of her flawless skin. A smile. Her smile, as he started the arduous job of breaking her walls, pushing inside of her further and further, stopping to give her time to adjust, to breath. The small kisses he gave her to alleviate the burning sensation of her gone maidenhead.  Their words before Eru.

Drops of blood.

When he finally moved in and out of her, her legs spreading to give him more space, it was almost too much. Tight, very tight she was, but welcoming. His cock was soon sliding effortlessly; the moisture of her arousal was now mixed with his own, as it should be, he thought.

They could not take their eyes of each other; both wanted to savour each minute of this. Would it ever be this perfect? No, it would be even better; intimacy would see to that. But never...it would never be this intense. Their first time, Her first time and , in a sense, his too.

As he finally collapsed, he was met with a loving kiss; he was tired and she, even more. They slept like this,  for some time; he was still inside her when they woke up.

It was then, in the afterglow of their joining, that Thranduil finally answered Faye: “ Elves marry only once and for love. The bond formed is for life, and beyond. Courting can take years, centuries even and marriage is not a complicated affair. This...the consummation of the wedding is, more or less, the wedding itself. There are rings exchanged, yes...words to be said, but the most important and sacred thing is the bound. _What we have_. “

“Although elves should always marry for love, and nobody can be forced to form a bond, with nobles...is more complicated. There are...other ways. Not an arranged marriage, but close. My father, seeing that centuries had passed and I have not pledged myself to anyone, took matters to his hands. She was from a noble Silvan Family; it was meant to be a symbol of our Realm, a Sindar and a Silvan united in marriage. Decades passed before we were to wed; chances given for love to come, naturally.”

“We are masters of our emotions; when time came, and still I had not find my true mate, I willed myself to take her. Love came, eventually...she was a fine elleth and gave me a son. After his birth, whatever interest we had in each other, disappeared. This is not uncommon...it is actually, expected. We turned our attentions to other pursuits...until Duiniel died in an Orc attack. I grieved her deeply. She was a good queen, the best of mothers...but I did not _love_ her, truly. When I met you, I felt something I could not understand at first, for I had never experienced it. This is Love. I could never have loved you, Faye, had my bond not have been broken. This is the greatest gift my wife gave me other than Legolas...setting me free. _For you_. She must have served our bond in the Hall of Mandos; it is a rare thing, but can be done. You are my wife, Faye...my Elven Queen.”

Faye loved his silver hair; long and soft, smelling of the forest. She loved him. Being his wife, it was lovely...being a Queen? How could she protect the woods if she was locked in a palace?

She had reservations, but knew they would make it work: ”Thranduil...you make me very happy. My life is yours; I could never return to my kin. I am glad they are alive and well, but only my past belongs to them; my future shall be here, in the Greenwood. With you. But I cannot leave this cabin for long periods of time...I am needed here; I cannot allow the evil to spread...I should watch the borders...save the trees and plants.”

A gentle kiss on her forehead reassured her he knew. “ Beloved, we will always be together, protecting the woods. Never will I impose my will on yours; I do, however, take my Duty as Husband seriously. Promise me that, when you feel your Power cannot bar the enemy from spreading anymore, you will come to me. Promise me you will never place yourself in danger. We are the Greenwood, my love; the forest is not only made of trees, waters and animals...the both of us are also part of it. If we are weak, the forest suffers.”

“I promise, my love.”

 

***

The last day of his stay, Faye felt like crying; parting from Thranduil was too difficult. It would be months before he could come again- she had him say he would visit her every season- and she had grown used to their lovemaking, to him, helping her around the cabin, even attempting to cook and failing miserably...

“My bed will always be cold and empty without you.” She said as they finally reached the borders of her dominions. ” Three months, you said?”

“Yes, meleth nin...three months hence, I  shallreturn to you, to our home. Until then, whatever you need, you may ask of my guards.” Now that they were bonded, they could communicate through their thoughts and feelings; Faye, however, had plans of keeping sending Nyie to visit her husband, as she suspected the owl had grown used to him as well.

Her happiness made her thoughts turn to another man, one that still waited for her, a bride that would never come.

Faye´s people were breeders of horses; when she ran from the Orcs, she was riding a carriage, which she still had; the horses were also alive, always nearby, free to roam in her woods.

With a whistle, Faye summoned both horses: the white one, she kissed on the face and commanded “ Go to Léod.”; the brown horse, she stroked its back and whispered for him to return to her family.

They left soon afterwards. “ I hope they will understand... that they will know I am fine, but will never return.”

“They will, Faye.” Thranduil said in a comforting tone, his hand rested on her shoulder.“ I must leave, meleth nin...dream with me and your bed will not be cold; my kisses will not be warm, but you will still find comfort in my longing and love.”

 

***

 

There was no announcement made at Thranduil's Halls, but it was not a secret that the Elvenking was married to the Lady of the woods, a mysterious woman many believed to be nothing more than a spirit of the Forest, bodiless creatures of legends and stories of old..

The weeks passed and Winter finally came. She wished him to be there, but, like he said, their dream sharing was keeping things...interesting to say the least. More often than not Faye would wake up with a smile on her face , sore between her legs and Thranduil…

Well, his bed linen needed changing almost daily.

While the inhabitants of the Woodland Realm would speak in hushed tones about the new “ Elven Queen”, so dutiful and mindful of her obligations that spurred the richness and comfort of his Halls to live in a cabin and protect the Forest from the Enemy, many of the travellers and dignitaries Thranduil was forced to receive remained unaware of this new status.

One of those, unfortunately, was an elleth from Lorien named Meril, a musician who came with a delegation from that elvish Realm to discuss the terms of a trade arrangement with the Elvenking.

He had no idea what an harpist was doing among the group, but there she was, all smiles and compliments to him and his radiance, batting her eyelashes - quite charmingly actually- until one day the poor girl dared ask the king for a dance and, quite suddenly, collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

 _Faye...what have you done?_ Thranduil knew it was not fatal; just a mental shock used to send Meril a clear message, but still...it was not good for business.

_I am sorry...she will wake up in some minutes...my apologies. It will not happen again...I hope._

  



	3. The destiny of Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story goes full circle: what it is an end, if only a new beggining?

By the time Faye finally agreed to leave her cabin and seek refuge at the Halls of her husband, she was heavy with their first child.

Faye had always wanted children; now that she had been married for some time, her thoughts turned to the dream of having a family. The trees and animals that surrounded her were company enough, but the idea of having a baby growing inside of her held an almost religious appeal.

The seasons changed, the years passed and Faye continue to hesitate in sharing this desire with Thranduil. They spent so much time apart that, when they finally saw each other, the opportunities to have such conversation were limited by the fury of their love.

Somehow, it did not seem proper to discuss having children through letters, so Faye had more or less resigned herself .

The time never stops and Faye continued to look and feel young.  Thranduil took notice and his reservations started to melt.

One night, he finally broached the subject: they were abed, their legs entwined, her head resting over his muscular chest as his right hand gently caressed her flat stomach : “ You want to have a child.”

Faye´s heart raced: “Yes.”

“So do I...nothing would make me happier. I had never been open to the idea until now not because I never wanted this for us, believe me. Although we have half elves, they were born out of females of my Kin.”

Faye understood his reasons and could not fault him for being so caring :“You feared I would not survive carrying your child. What has made you change your mind?”

“You did.” Thranduil replied. “ I had always felt you held a special power, one that could not have been given to a mortal. I had many suspicions, but when my men came back with the story of your family...how you had been persecuted by Orcs and came to the greenwood to die, I assumed it was the forest who protected you and made you stronger. The question of your mortality remained, but now that fifty years had passed us and you look as young as when we first met…”

Faye did not allow Thranduil the opportunity to finish the sentence: she kissed him eagerly and placed his hand over her full breasts. He deepened the kiss while kneading her mounds of flesh; he loved her, loved her whole body but her breasts were something he never tired of.

She smiled under the kiss. “I want you inside, my most handsome husband.”

“Then ride me until we both lose control, until I fill you with my seed. I am all yours.” Thranduil´s strong hands lifted Faye with ease and she took position above him, impaling herself on his cock.

She gasped. “ You are so big!” She rocked her hips, slow at first, savouring every inch of him inside her, the perfect mixture of pleasure and a certain amount of pain that she not so secretly craved. Faye would dream about being filled by him, unashamed of her fascination and primitive desires of being fucked until she was sore, tired and panting.

Thranduil planted his hands firmly on her hips, assisting her with the pace; they both enjoyed the special friction this position created, the easiest way of his elfhood to reach that secret spot inside that gave her the most intense orgasms.

She continued to fuck herself on him as Thranduil moved to a sitting position and he lost no time by savagely biting her nipples, being promply gifted with a particular enticing noise, ecstasy in her lips and without word.

“More...please...more” She begged; Faye was very responsive when Thranduil´s expert hands and delicious mouth played with her nipples. She liked that her husband was showing no mercy on her, that he was obviously going to do what he wanted and that in the end, he would look with pride at the sensitive and pink skin, raw, beaten and used.

“Are you going to come for me?” Thranduil felt her climax was close and instead of giving her time to enjoy the sweet sensation, he forced Faye to ride him at an even stronger pace, aware that the extra roughness would only increase her peak tenfold.

“I want you to cry...I want my cock covered in your cum.”

The first time that had happened, the warm and thick liquid of her orgasm leaking from within, she had continued to peak for so long that made her body spasm and the tears pour out of her eyes; Thranduil went from soft to hard again in a matter of seconds, watching his wife losing herself to their lovemaking and since then, the prideful Sinda always strived to make his little wife reach this level of completion at least once.

“Fuck---ai---Thranduil---” She became nothing more than a doll in his hands, incapable of coming out of her own high; Thranduil took charge, laying her down on the bed and rutting her relentlessly.

When he finally spent inside of her, Thranduil collapsed by Faye´s side, kissed her neck and whispered with a smug smile: “ 30th October- the Princess of Woodland Realm begetting day.”

 

***

Leaving the cabin had been hard.

The forests would be open to the spreading darkness without the constant presence of Faye, but the safety of their child was paramount and she could not longer, in conscience, live alone in that cabin .

Faye did not argue when Thranduil told her to finally join his Court; she just replied his letter and asked him to come as soon as possible, as she wanted to spend the last moments alone in the woods with him.

Thranduil was being extra careful with Faye when they laid together. Despite being entranced by the sight of her, round with his child, his touches were softer and his attentions, milder; he feared hurting her and held back, but he still desired his wife and could not spend any night by her side without having her at least once.

Faye never felt happier or safer than she was there, sleeping in Thranduil's arms under the stars, the sweet spring breezes kissing their bodies after they spent hours making love.

The members of his guard were never too far from the Royal Couple, the reason why Faye was avoiding being overly vocal when having sex with her husband. “ What is the problem, meleth nin? Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“I am enjoying it... _but_ …we are not alone anymore...they could hear me-  _us_!”

Thranduil took this as a challenge; the next night, he threw his reservations down the window.

As usual, they spread their bed rolls some meters away from the guards and Thranduil built them a fire. He then ordered her on her fours, and pounded his cock in her wet, willing cunt with such gusto that had her screaming his name in less than two minutes.

When he was finished with her, Thranduil whispered in Faye´s ears: “Let them hear us...never be ashamed of our love.”

Lesson learned, she slept with a smile in her face.

 

***

They were received with a great Feast and Thranduil had a Crown made of twigs and leaves for Faye.

 

***

Prince Legolas had not been present at the time of Faye´s arrival at his father´s halls, but returned a month before his sister was to be born.

The weather was still warm enough for Thranduil to organize a hunt and they met Legolas and the guards he was leading in patrolling the borders as they roasted a deer the Elvenking himself had killed.

Legolas bowed to the new Elvenqueen without making much eye contact. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lady. Congratulations are in order.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Prince. Soon you will hold your sister; I hope she grows up to be as brave and strong as her brother.”

Thranduil and Legolas spent some time at the King's tent, speaking in private. Faye was busy talking with the returned marchwardens, inquiring about the state of their borders and woods and learned that spiders had been  spotted for the first time in decades.

She cupped her belly and told herself that she had made the right decision, that her daughter would be safer at Thranduil's Halls.

But guilt was eating at her.

In the weeks after their meeting, Legolas still kept his distance, never exchanging more than a couple of words with Faye. Thranduil is visibly upset, but she tells her husband it was to be expected: “ The Prince is much older than the woman you married, which perhaps gives him pause. He treats me with enough courtesy and has never spoken an ill word against me. Leave him be…”

 

***

Princess Alma was born on 30th October, 2552 T.A. and the immediate and unrestrained love that Legolas felt towards his sister ever since he held her for the first time was enough to bring him closer to his step mother.

Thranduil is overjoyed.” Our daughter is the most precious treasure of the Greenwood.” he intones and Faye has the urge of rolling her eyes.

“She will grow up spoiled if you keep saying things like that.”  But, of course, looking at the small bundle in her arms, the beautiful eyes of her father already shining with intelligence, Faye had to agree with the assessment. “ You are right, however...Alma is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen!”

Invitations are sent to neighbors and other elvish realms; the new Princess will be officially presented by springtime. Faye had learned enough Sindarin to make polite conversation and had been handling all the affairs with Dale as of late, quietly setting in her new routine as Queen.

“ My people, it is said, originally comes from the North.” she told Thranduil one day as an afterthought.

“Yes, I do remember it well when they started migrating...you are correct, the horse people come from around Dale.” He says plainly.

Faye started to laugh: “ Sometimes, I do forget that you are... _old_ . Very _old._ Please, never tell me how exactly old you are. “

Thranduil was visibly offended by the slight and gave Faye one of his most imperious looks; she tried to retract  the callous observation, or making it look better in restrospect: “Of course, you are also very wise and I must be seen as nothing more than a child in your eyes. I apologise for the remark, greatest of the Elvenkings.”

“I am the _only_ Elvenking...at least in Middle Earth, and the one _you_ should _bow_ to. Instead, you make poor jokes.”

A wave of warmth suddenly clashs against Faye´s body; she aches for his touch, not despite him being angry at her, but rather _because_ he is.

Thranduil, of course, can smell her arousal and uses it against her: “ So, you have need of my much _old_ cock it seems. The healers had not yet gave you leave, my dear. Be a good girl and _wait._ I am wise, as you said yourself, and will never deny you.”

But she is already on her knees, her hand freeing Thranduil´s elfhood from the confinements of his rich robes, his hidden erection swallowed at once by Faye´s mouth.

She drinks every drop of his seed and he silently apologises her for the stupid remarks.

***

Mithrandir comes with the delegation from Lothlorien answering the invitation Thranduil had sent for Princess Alma presentation.

Lady Galadriel stayed behind; It was her husband , Lord Celeborn, a distant relative of Thranduil,  who came, to represent their Realm and pay his respects to the Elvenking.

Legolas takes Faye aside and explains that the relations between Thranduil and Galadriel are distant and respectful at best: “ The Lady of Light has not always been that powerful or warm hearted. The Noldor of old looked down on Sindar and Silvan alike, and her uncle was responsible for greet evil deeds, especially against our Kin, the Teleri. Galadriel was called Artanis once; Celeborn gave her the new name after Elu Thingol outlawed the use of Qenya. They only became Lords because the last King of Lothlorien died without issue. She has a Ring of Power, which makes easier for her to protect her lands; Ada thinks it is unfair that we need to protect our woods with the blood of our people. As you see, they could never hope to be exactly friends, but we are allies nervertheless.”

The grey wizard spends most time quietly observing Faye with keen interest, without really making any effort in speaking with the Elvenqueen. Thranduil, who had always been weary of wizards, sees Gandalf´s strange behaviour as a blessing.

After lunch one day, Faye excuses herself briefly to put Alma to nap; she was in the corridor, returning to her guests when she hears somebody calling her by one of her many names, one that she had never heard before, but that sounds very familiar:

“Alatar!”

She immediatly turns to see who is calling.

Gandalf asks Thranduil and Faye to speak with him in private aftre he had his suspicions confirmed.

 

***

“What is with Sindar Kings and our Maiar Maidens, I ask of you, Thranduil Oropherion?”

While Faye was not technically a Maia as Melian had been, it was close enough. 

Before she died ,the blue wizard  called Alatar, having failed his mission, searched another way to assit in the fight against the Dark Lord. After much consideration, The Valar decided to grant Alatar with a second chance and return to Middle Earth as a wizard.

His physical body, however, had been ruined by the magical cult he encountered in the East; not even Eru could have re-embodied him after all Alatar had endured, the many spells, incantations, curses and fighting that had defeated him in the end turned his body to ashes.

Apparently, Alatar was strong enough before he finally died to make a choice: he could use the last remnants of his force to either keep his hroa or  his fea in conditions to be returned, but not both.

“As he choose his powers and the conscience of his mission, the only problem that remained was of the body. We all took the form of older man and, for what I heard, Queen Faye´s grandfather would make a perfect candidate, but he died and was welcomed by Mandos at the wrong time. Alatar then resigned himself with your body, I am afraid.”

The discovery presented great opportunities and challenges to both Thranduil and Faye; he does not have a Ring of Power, but now, he has a powerful wizard as spouse, which is asset.

Mithrandir agreed to teach Faye how to better use her powers and protect their woods. The way she had been using her magic made both Thranduil and Mithrandir conclude that she was attempting to create a fence of enchantment. Her own ignorance and inexperience made the fence ineffective when she moved away from the cabin, but it was a clear enough sign that the girdle had been Alatar´s intention.

When Faye had recovered enough of her strength and finally accepted the mission, she was able to channel Alatar´s powers. In effect, her girdle was smaller than she had initially intended- Alatar had not been as powerful as Melian was- but nonetheless, a great improvement of their defenses against the Necromancer of Dol Guldur.

Thranduil only hoped that Faye´s mortal body would be able to sustain such powers; he would not want to lose her.

***

When the Dragon Smaug came, Faye convinced Thranduil of extending their assistance to all survivors, both dwarves and men. The vicious beast continued to hunt for people in the dead of the night, but one day he, satisfied with his hoard and with a full stomach, returned to the Mountain and  went to slep.

While the reception Thorin Oakenshield and his company received at the Greenwood was not exactly friendly, they were hardly treated as prisoners. There was nothing the Elven rulers could do other than advise the dwarves. Their original plan had been to claim some of the treasure to better their lives and of their people. Upon learning that Mithrandir was somehow involved, Alatar spoke through Faye: “ The cousin has a plan; he would not assist them in this quest just for gold. Do you think they will cause the dragon's wrath by trying to reclaim the mountain?”

Thranduil could only see an upcoming disaster: “ Dale is completely destroyed; I refused to help their King to rebuild it because the dragon was still in that Mountain, but Laketown is close enough to be attacked.”

Faye reminded Thorin and the other dwarves that they were not the only ones to have lost their home: “ There are many refugees living in Lake Town from the time Smaug came to claim your Mountain; that hoard of gold your grandfather amassed brought not only the sorrow to Durin's Folk, but also to the men of Dale. You do well in remember that before doing something foolish. You are, however,free to pass.”

 

***

The creature Gollum escaped their dungeons and Legolas left for Imladris and joined a Fellowship to protect the Hobbit who was carrying the One Ring.

Faye and Thranduil held their breaths; when the tide finally started turning, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel joined the wood elves in Dol Guldur. The Lady of Light did not leave any stone unmoved and the elves spent the next weeks cleaning the forest from the vile creatures that still roamed free.

It was the year 3019 T.A: the Forces of Good finally triumphed over Darkness.

The Elves started to leave Middle Earth, but many of the Sindar and Silvan had not yet heard the call to Valinor.

Lord Elrond, Mithrandir and Lady Galadriel sailed.

She watched as Galadriel and her husband, Lord Celeborn, said their goodbyes with unease. “There is no love between them.” She said to Thranduil.

“No; not anymore. I believe not even friendship had survived, which is the destiny of all marriages among the Eldar. Galadriel is much too powerful and does not understand Celeborn´s reasons: he was raised to fight with his bare hands ever since he was a young boy. This is the way of our people, Galadriel fights with magic and feels its protection, while Celeborn has not been blessed with her many gifts and acts with more caution due to our past history. I believe she now sees his natural mistrust and doubts as flaws. They grew even more apart after their daughter sailed. “

This gave Faye much to think about. Alma was over 400 years old, an adult and a very brave soldier; Legolas had already told his father he would be sailing in the near future before accepting King Elessar´s appointment to rule over a portion of Ithilien. She still cried Thranduil´s name when they had sex; he  still found comfort and pleasure in her body.

Would they end like Galadriel and Celeborn, married in name only?

Thranduil sensed her discomfort :“You should not fear, meleth nin; the future is what we make of it. If you wish to sail, I would not hold against you.“

Mithrandir had mentioned that by all intents and purposes, Faye would be living as an Eldar had she chose to stay in Middle Earth. “How can I sail when you are bound to stay, Thran? Do you wish me to go, do you want to give up on me?”

“Never. Never, my love.”

Her eyes watered with tears. Thranduil took her hand and turned her body to his. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth. “ I am merely telling you that, whatever your choice is, I will keep loving you.”

“We are the Greenwood. I will stay with you.”

and they never discussed the subject anymore.

***

Years, Decades, Centuries passed.

Legolas had to build his own ship to sail with Gimli to join Frodo and Gandalf, the only remaining members of the Fellowship, at Valinor. Lord Círdan had been given leave by The Valar to sail himself some years prior.

Now, if one of the Eldar or an elven friend wished to sail, the Grey Havens was still one of the places they could do so, but its buildings and houses laid mostly empty.

Celeborn, Elrohir and Elladan all stayed for as long as it was virtually possible for elves. Elrohir had been changed by the death of Arwen and became unafraid of the gift of men; he chose to embrace his part of his heritage, married a noble from Rohan and died there, surrounded by his children , all mortal.

Elladan sailed with his grandfather and his wife, Princess Alma, the daughter of Thranduil and Faye. By that time, their own children were no longer children: Merrill had just turned one hundred and twenty years of age, and had the Sindar look of her mother and grandfather, and Daeron was about ninety years her senior, a trained and talented healer.

Theirs was the last great departure, as they sailed with many of the remaining elves of Imladris, Lothlorien and the Greenwood, silvan and sindar alike.

Thranduil had vowed not to leave his people alone, to always lead them, guide them, to laugh and cry with them, from beginning to end. As long as there were  elves in his Greenwood, Thranduil would stay.

“How many are we now, my husband?”

“One hundred.”

 

***

The woods would always need protection and the elves left behind would continue to live attuned with nature until they met their peaceful ends. Their destiny was to fade and become one with the forest, wood spirits inhabiting the trees and waters of the Greenwood, protecting that beautiful land from harm...

Centuries passed like days. Mankind grew and grew and needed more and more: More space to house their cities; more pastures to feed their animals; more land to plant their crops.

They took and took and took; when it was all too much to bear, something changed. Faye and Thranduil could feel it in the air; time would never go back, but humans were returning to the forests they once feared and showing due respect to the greatest of the great forests, Eryn Lasgallen.

Faye and Thranduil were the last ones to sustain their bodies. They returned to the cabin after they watched the last fading ceremony of their most loyal of servants, who chose to become one with a beautiful oak tree, near enough the cabin for them to visit often.

He would hunt; she would tend the garden, feed their chicken, milk their cow...they both enjoyed to fish, even though they were not really good at.

They still made love every other night.

“As long as you allow me inside of you, meleth nin,  we will not fade.”

“Then we will always be.”

Thranduil was overwhelmed by her love. He kissed Faye and, for him it tasted like the first time. “ Yes, we will always be.”

They both cried, for they knew it was not true.

 

***

It happened one afternoon; they were dressed in rags and picking mushrooms for their lunch. They had already talked to the birds and they knew there were humans nearby, but paid them no mind, as they had always been able to observe mortals without being seen.

They were attracted by laughter. Faye and Thranduil watched a beautiful family camping near the small lake; the father was teaching two small children how to swim and the mother was eating strawberries and reading a book.

They returned to their cabin no longer after.

Without a word, Thranduil offered Faye his hand. They walked for some hours, silently saying their goodbyes. The trees sang their names: it were their friends, the last hundred of their subjects, welcoming the Elvenking and the Elvenqueen in their new domains.

***

Their last kiss was the sweetest. 

Two beautiful trees, growing together like one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all of you following this story. The Sindar are my favorite group of Elves and I love Thranduil- especially the good King we see in the Hobbit- and I hope I had done him justice with my portrayal, but alas, as a fan fic writer, we always take some liberties.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an experiment.  
> My aim is to have a romantic relationship that sounds both magical and real.
> 
> I love all fics with unlikely pairings and the whole concept of people of different backgrounds falling in love. This fic came out of my indredulity at most of the Thranduil x OF pairings I have been reading. I usually REALLY like when authors take a turn at humour, but I found out that many raeders do prefer more romantic stories with this pairing.
> 
> The stories I have been reading are mostly, well written...like VERY good. But I realize midway through that I dislike their leads. Why? Well, they are either too perfect ( like half elves maidens or human girls that turn out to be elves...) or they are given too many handcaps to make them believable IMO...so, people are trying TOO hard not to write Mary Sues ( whihc by the way, is sexist: in real life I met some almost perfect women who could do no wrong...so if said women exist in real life, they sure should exist in ficition) they end up with the " too perfect to be real" or with the " too weird to be real"...
> 
> So,I might fail, but my intention is to have Faye as both very unique and very normal. She has a family that loves her; no traumas there, but her family...well, they are basically superficial jerks. She herself is a bit stubborn and prideful.  
> But destiny comes out for her and her powers...are not really hers. 
> 
> When she meets Thranduil, he is impressed by her powers, but charmed by her personality. She is both wise, but naive when it comes to Thranduil. So, yes...any relationship with a huge age gap suffers from this sense of uneasiness ( if the older part is not taking advantage, of course) and how it goes from there, how they adapt to it...this is where I am going. Or trying to...


End file.
